


The Vicissitudes of Life

by fififolle



Category: Transporter (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Baked Goods, Blow Jobs, Coming In Pants, Food Porn, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trope Bingo Round 2, madeleines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/pseuds/fififolle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank comes home to an unexpected houseguest.<br/>This fits my DW trope_bingo prompt: food porn. The title is from Proust, who used madeleines to wax lyrical about memory. But don't be fooled, this is essentially PWP. Tarconi's first name borrowed from jedibuttercup but it's obvious really, on more than one front :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Vicissitudes of Life

~

The door had been unlocked and the newly-installed house defences deactivated. Frank had quietly taken his handgun from his chest holster, but as he padded silently towards the kitchen he had a feeling his finger would never need to cover the trigger.

The smell of baking had hit him as soon as he'd carefully entered his own house. He felt a mix of irritation and nervous anticipation as he approached his own kitchen.

Pushing open the door slowly, maintaining at least a semblance of caution, he surveyed the room and relaxed slightly, lowering his gun at the sight.

“What the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?”

Tarconi turned to him, madeleine pan in his oven-gloved hands, his hair awry and flour on his cheek.

“Ah. You are home. What do you think I am doing?”

Frank rolled his eyes and sank down onto a kitchen chair, resting his gun on the table and rubbing the fingers of his other hand over his eyes. “I don't know, Tarconi. I really don't know.”

He'd thought that maybe the police inspector would have lost interest by now. Sure, they'd still been friends after it had all gone tits up in Odessa, but when it came down to it, Frank wasn't sure he wanted to keep bumping into Tarconi, when all he really wanted to do was drop to his knees and let the older man use him.

That could never happen.

It had been getting painful just seeing him, so he'd stopped answering the inspector's calls and been conveniently out when Tarconi dropped by.

He didn't want to lose control that way again. Did he?

Tarconi's voice was soft and close to his ear. “I made madeleines for you.”

Reluctantly, Frank opened his eyes and looked up into Tarconi's bright smile. He couldn't help himself, his own smile crinkled back. “Thank you, François ,” he murmured wearily, something in his chest tightening.

“Come, Frank,” Tarconi said soothingly. “Try one.”

It occurred to Frank that he must look very pale and tired for Tarconi to be talking to him like that. Yeah, well, he was tired of fighting it.

He leaned forward and took the proffered cake, his fingers brushing Tarconi's and sending confused messages around his head. The madeleine was warm and slightly slippery in his fingers, a golden shell of light sponge. He bit into it, and was rewarded by a soft and fragrant sweetness, accompanied by a humming noise from Tarconi.

“It is good, no?”

Frank felt himself nod, still chewing. “Very good, thank you.”

Fuck. Why couldn't the guy just _leave?_

“Frank, look at me.”

Furrowing his brow at Tarconi's change in tone, Frank looked up.

Tarconi put down the pan and took off the oven gloves. He raised an eyebrow. “Are you still mad at me?”

Frank hastily swallowed the last bit of the delicious madeleine. “I'm not mad at you. I've never been mad at you. What - ?”

“Oh.” Tarconi's eyes widened, and he glanced around nervously. “Then it is the other thing.”

Frank was wary, and feigned confusion. “What other thing?”

“I did not think it was possible,” Tarconi mused, almost to himself. “A young man like you, so strong and beautiful. What would you want with me? A foolish old man with a white beard. And yet, it must be true.”

Frank wasn't sure whether to slide under the table with embarrassment, or just run away. Tarconi _knew._ This was exactly the awkward confrontation he had wanted to avoid. As well as anything actually happening between them.

But his mind could only fixate on the fact that Tarconi was the least foolish person he had ever known.

Tarconi was standing over him, a kindly look on his face. “Maybe I know what you need.”

A shiver ran through Frank's entire body, and he bowed his head, looking away. “François...” Frank felt the hand stroke his cheek, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He felt flooded by a relief that Tarconi might understand, but fear that he would want to give him what he needed. “I can't...”

“But you want to.” Tarconi stood closer, until he could clasp Frank's head to his hip, his hand stroking Frank's scalp.

Frank nodded, trembling now. Unable to fight his lack of self-control, he pressed his head to Tarconi.

“I won't hurt you, Frank,” Tarconi murmured. “You know this.”

Yes, Frank was afraid that if he gave himself to someone like Tarconi again, it would end badly, as before, but he did trust this man. He nodded again.

Tarconi continued to stroke his head, and sighed softly. Frank felt himself growing hard with anticipation, and could feel Tarconi's cock swell against his cheek.

“You are a very good boy,” Tarconi said quietly, his voice breathy and deep. “Don't run away from me any more. I will look after you.”

Frank let out an involuntary whimper as he heard the very words he'd wanted to hear. “Please,” he managed to croak. With clumsy fingers, he reached for Tarconi's trouser zip.

Tarconi chuckled and swayed on his feet a little to give Frank some space. “So eager. This I like.”

Frank moaned in his throat at the sight of Tarconi's thick cock against his soft, grey hair. He leaned in and nuzzled Tarconi's balls, inhaling the incredible scent of the other man.

“Yes,” hissed Tarconi. “Good boy.”

Frank wanted to suck Tarconi off, swallow him down. He took hold of Tarconi's cock and stroked it eagerly.

“Hold – hold on,” Tarconi gasped. “Not quite so fast. I am an old man, Frank. You must let me have my fun before the party is over.”

Frank stilled his hand, and looked up at Tarconi. The inspector was smiling wickedly at him.

“Take off your jacket and shirt, Frank.”

Frank did as he was told, laying his black suit jacket over the chair, removing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, tugging it off hastily to lay it on top of the jacket. He looked up at Tarconi.

“Very good.” The inspector had a madeleine in his hand. He held it to Frank's lips, and looked at him through half-lidded eyes. “Lick it, Frank.”

Frank gulped. Part of him wanted to shove Tarconi against the wall and deep-throat him right the fuck now, but this was what he really wanted...

Someone to make the rules and make him keep them.

He flicked out his tongue and licked at the madeleine in Tarconi's hand. It was warm and sweet. Tarconi smirked. His cock twitched.

“Very nice. Touch me again. And open your mouth.”

Frank did as he was told, returning his hand to Tarconi's cock. Tarconi slid the thinner end of the madeleine into Frank's mouth, and then withdrew it. His eyes dark and aroused, he continued to fuck Frank's mouth with the cake, as he fucked his cock slowly into Frank's loose grip.

“Suck it, Frank. Let me see those pretty cheekbones.”

Groaning, his own cock aching now, Frank did as he was told. He sucked on the madeleine, spit leaking from the side of his mouth because his mouth was so wet. He was so _hungry._

“Oh, Frank. You have done so well. You can eat it now.” Tarconi's hand petted him, and Frank ate the madeleine and bowed his head. He licked his lips and swallowed again.

He felt at peace with himself, and with François. He felt _safe_.

“Can I suck you now, François?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Frank. You can suck me now.”

Frank gripped Tarconi's cock a little harder, and licked the pre-come from the head. Tarconi stifled a gasp. Frank smiled, and boldly took more of Tarconi in his mouth.

“Hands behind your back, Frank,” Tarconi breathed.

The command made Frank harder. This was what he needed. What he wanted.

He obeyed, pushing himself onto Tarconi's cock, feeling the head bump the back of his throat.

“Mon dieu,” Tarconi gasped. His fingers cupped Frank's head and he forced his cock deeper.

Tarconi fucked his mouth steadily for a while, until Frank had forgotten why he had avoided the man in the first place. He was gripped in a state of bliss, his cock aching and Tarconi's thick cock filling his mouth.

“Can you c-come like this, Frank?” Tarconi stuttered. “On your knees, with my cock down your throat?”

Frank felt the ripple through Tarconi's cock as he tried to nod, choking a little as his own orgasm hit him too, his cock pulsing as it emptied in his boxers, Tarconi's cock pulsing in his mouth. He sucked hungrily and swallowed Tarconi's come, floating somewhere between ecstasy and bliss.

Tarconi made soft, purring sounds as his hand stroked Frank's head. He pulled out of Frank's mouth and pulled him close, clasping his head to his groin. “My beautiful boy,” he murmured. “You have done so well.”

Frank breathed heavily, leaning on Tarconi and catching his breath. He wiped his mouth with his hand and took another lick at Tarconi's softening cock. Tarconi swatted lazily at him. 

“Enough,” he smiled. “You can do it again tomorrow.”

Frank grinned up at him, so happy to hear those words. “Thank you.”

“But I am not baking more madeleines,” Tarconi added. “You are out of eggs.”

Frank pouted. “I can buy more.”

“Good boy,” Tarconi grinned. “Now go and change out of that suit you have ruined.”

“Yes, sir,” Frank beamed, getting gingerly to his feet, feeling very damp in the groin.

Tarconi rolled his eyes, and chuckled, looking at Frank fondly. “You are going to be trouble. I can tell. But do not worry, I have a firm hand.”

Frank swallowed, his heart pounding happily. “Perfect.”

~


End file.
